


Hie Thee Home

by BuddingBriar



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Agnus is an asshat, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, By Griffon I mean big DMC1 Griffon but heh who knows, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff, Fortuna is involved, Hurt/Comfort, Mundus also has no idea how humans work, Mundus is a very very bad dad, OC is Nero's mom, Role Swap AU--kinda, Sons of Mundus AU, Trish raised these boys, Unplanned Pregnancy, Vergil learns how to love, mentions of breastfeeding, my own hcs are used in here, slowish burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:42:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27287359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuddingBriar/pseuds/BuddingBriar
Summary: Instead of being eight, Eva was killed when Dante and Vergil were just babies. And instead of killing them, Mundus has a different idea.Raise them under his watchful eyes.Eighteen years pass, and the boys are sent on a mission with one goal: Kill all the humans that have infiltrated the Underworld. However, things go wrong, and Vergil finds himself on an island that worships the very demon he's been taught to hate for all his life.It's only luck that he gains a mysterious sword, and meets someone that'll help him understand that he's not who he was raised to be.
Relationships: Dante & Trish & Vergil, Nero's Mother/Vergil (Devil May Cry), Vergil/OC
Comments: 14
Kudos: 45





	1. Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Special thank you to LadyMuzzMuzz, without you I wouldn't have been able to write this. Your ideas are godtier.
> 
> And another special thank you to the boys in the Vergil discord and another friend for hyping me tf up. 
> 
> Before I allow you all to read, I want to warn that Trish is made to be a mother for the boys instead of a pawn. So, this chapter has a vague mention of breastfeeding. Weird, I know, it doesn't happen again. (Thank you to xdhx for the idea)
> 
> Slight warning for implied child neglect and vague discovery of a burnt body. These will also not really be brought up again.

She smells the smoke before feeling even a lick of heat on her skin.

Amongst silk sheets and a dark room, this woman lays in her bed. Being pulled out of sleep wasn’t unexpected; she has twin sons to look over. One in particular, the younger one, really loves not sleeping through the night.

But this, of course, wasn’t one of her sons.

_‘Smoke…’_

She shoots up, golden tresses falling around her face.

The boys!

“Vergil! Dante!” she cries as she jumps out of bed.

* * *

Eva Sparda runs from the master bedroom, mauve nightgown kicking with her sprinting as she dashes towards the nursery. Now in the hall, she can hear the clear crackling of a fire. A threatening orange glow illuminates the wood, and Eva knows if she doesn’t get downstairs soon the floor will collapse under her feet.

The closer she runs towards the room of interest, the louder she can hear her precious boys screaming for their mother. Not literally, they’re still babies. Her heart palpitates, the double wailing continuous.

She wrenches open the door to the nursery, running inside. The wailing of small ones clearly rings into the air now, even tears pricking at her eyes.

“Mama is here. Mama is here,” Eva comforts, rushing over. She grabs Vergil first, as he is the closest. She shushes them continuously, grabbing Dante next. The two white-haired babies just keep wailing, even with their mother comforting them. She holds them close in a gentle but ironclad grip, hurrying down the stairs. 

Downstairs, it’s absolute pandemonium.

Fire rages, licking up the curtains and anything else it can get its hands on. It’s bright, so _bright_ , and hard to breathe.

Smoke. Right.

Eva gets as low as she can, knowing she can’t crawl with twins in her arms. She still tries to shush them, kissing their temples and mumbling soothing words. They’d get out soon. She can see the nearest door to the outside. It’s wide open, practically baiting for her to come closer.

But wait.

Why is the door open?

Eva gasps, yelling out as her hair is suddenly yanked. The boys wail even louder if that’s possible, making her ears ring. 

Humid breath hits her neck, something slimy and cold hitting her back. She doesn’t have to turn around to know what is holding her.

_Demons._

Eva cries out once more as she’s pulled back, getting further and further from freedom. 

“No! _No!_ ” she cries, struggling against the demonic hold. The clutch is relentless, and Eva is helpless to save herself and her children as she’s suddenly chucked. 

Her boys fall from her arms, but instead of hitting the floor, they are grabbed by the very demon which grabbed her. Eva hits the floor with a sick _crack,_ and in that moment she knows she’s broken her arm. She’s disoriented from the hard fall, head fuzzy as she tries to regain her footing.

Crying of her twins reminds her why she was running, and she gets up as quickly as she can.

“Let them go!” she cries. “Give me my sons back!”

The demon easily evades her advancement, another demon appearing from the smoke and ash. Eva doesn’t relent, even with her one arm numb and unmoving. The ceiling above crackles, support beams beginning to fall. Her boys just keep crying, unable to do anything for themselves.

More and more demons appear from the fire, beginning to surround her. 

Eva is unafraid, only livid.

She lets out a cry of rage, picking up the first thing she can. A stool, which she holds up defensively with her good arm.

“Give me back my sons! You bastards!” she yells. A voice which would haunt her speaks, it’s voice like rocks falling in a drainpipe. It comes from the demon holding her sons.

_“Mundus wishes for them to be alive. Feel fortunate, Mate of Sparda. Your sons will become great heirs to Hell.”_

_‘Mundus? No.’_

_‘No.’_

_‘No, nononono.’_

A frightening, bone chilling _howl_ leaves Eva’s throat, rage upon her facial features as she throws the stool towards one of the demons. It’s a fruitless attempt, only making the demons enraged.

_“Take care of her. Mundus is expecting them.”_

Eva screams, yells, _cries_ her son's names as the other demons take her upon the hair, the clothes, the limbs. She begins to get dragged away, but the mother wrestles against them.

“VERGIL! DANTE!”

Eva is once again thrown like a ragdoll, hitting the wall. A squeal of pain leaves her lips, breathless as she feels her spine crack. 

The other demons don’t speak, only hisses and snarls leaving their maws. Eva feels more tears fall from her face, trying to move.

She can’t move.

Why can’t she move?

She tries, tries, _tries._

A demon’s claws reach up, and fall.

Sparda, her dearest love. Her boys, Vergil and Dante, who she promised she’d protect with her life. Flash, _flash_.

Eva knows no more.

* * *

Hell is strangely beautiful. White grass, red soil, waterfalls and stretches and stretches of hills, mountains, and plenty of other unique flora and landscapes. There is of course fauna as well, but the fauna is all rather deadly. 

A crack in the dimensions, which only happens every few years and only with special conditions, allowed many demons to escape on this perilous night. 

And Mundus, the King of Hell, allowed his subjects to go on a joyride. If, and only _if_ , they brought back cargo with them.

The sons of his most hated adversary. The sons of the demon which caused this split between human and demon in the first place.

The Sons of Sparda.

Vergil and Dante.

He senses their presence even now upon his throne of bones, and without hesitance, meets the demon which brought them back.

Said demon stops once three red eyes appear in the distance. Lightning crackles between them, glaring down upon the kidnapper. 

_“King Mundus,”_ the demon croaks. _“I have brought what you requested. Sparda’s mate is also no more. I wish for my reward, your majesty.”_

The high demon maliciously grins.

Once upon a time, Mundus wanted nothing more than the sons to be destroyed. He abhorred their very existence, wishing nothing but for them to be wiped from existence. But the night before tonight, a thought occurred to him.

A particularly dreadful thought. A sickening musing that brought him great, awful joy.

**_“I must reward you, then.”_ **

The demon keeps it’s head bowed as the boys are taken away. As soon as the sons are out of reach, lightning crackles. Thunder booms. An incredibly large fist swings down.

And the kidnapper is no more.

No one _demands_ from the demon king. 

* * *

Days later, and the spawn _won’t. Stop. Crying_.

Mundus thinks he might go mad. But instead of giving up on his plan, he instead channels all his energy into something else. Mundus is a brilliant mind, after all. Even if power hungry.

He holds out his massive palm, energy crackling around his hand until it conjoins together in the center.

In a bright flash of color, a woman kneels in his giant palm. 

She looks exactly like Eva.

Her head is bowed, forehead nearly touching his palm as her long, golden hair brushes upon his skin. She wears a long black dress with gold detailing and red shrug; a dress Eva loved when she was alive.

**_“You will take care of the spawn. See to it that they are taken care of until they can begin to train. Your name is now Trish.”_ **

“Yes, master,” Trish replies obediently. She turns, jumping off his palm and easily landing on her feet like a cat. She stalks off, Mundus watching with a glower.

The castle has a specially made room for the twins. Trish enters said room, pushing the large doors open. Inside, a bassinet lays in the middle of the room. There isn’t much else inside, not even toys. Only an ornate chest, which holds supplies, which sits alone at the wall under a lone window. Otherwise, there’s just two wailing boys, crying for milk and their mother.

Trish sighs, already knowing what to do. After all, Mundus gave her all capabilities of a human mother.

She walks up to them, hesitating before letting a delicate hand approach one twin. Dante, she thinks he is. The moment her skin touches his, Dante calms as if the continuous storm has finally started to separate. His wide, doe-like blue eyes open, tears still streaking down his chubby cheeks. He stares at Trish, bottom lip trembling. Vergil, sensing his twin’s calm, also manages to open his eyes. 

The two stare at Trish, almost unblinking. If she wasn’t a demoness, maybe she’d be a little unsettled. Instead, she allows them to just stare at her. 

After a moment’s silence, it’s like the storm has broken apart completely. Dante is the first to turn his mood around, little hands reaching as a giggle leaves his lips. While Vergil isn’t as open as his twin, his tears have at least dried and he seems in a better mood. 

She picks up Dante first after shifting her dress. She allows him to suckle from her nipple, which he does greedily. Once he finishes, and she’s burped him, she does the same for Vergil. Evidently, these two haven’t had a meal, their last probably hours before they were taken here. 

Trish takes care of changing them as well. A bath might suffice soon, but not right now. 

Finally, having been taken care of, the twins sleep without restlessness. 

* * *

_Several days earlier…_

“There’s a woman here!”

What would be soon known as The Red Grave City Massacre ravaged through the streets of the city hours ago. Now, emergency services sort through the city, collecting bodies and putting out fires. Many become sick from the gorey sights, even the most seasoned professionals. No one really knows how so many people—hundreds, almost thousands—of people were killed in just one night. 

Sure, there are _rumors._ Rumors of demonic monsters, which sliced and diced and ate as they blew their carnage through. But not a lot of people believed the witnesses. 

And now we come to here. A fireman, who enters the now charred manor after the department doses the last licks, finds the remains of a woman. He has no tears to cry, he doesn’t know her, but he still can’t help but feel sorrowful that this innocent woman was caught in whatever hellish event happened last night. 

He racks his brain for her identity, as he’s heard of this place before. But nothing comes to mind. 

“Who was she?” another fireman asks. The original one shrugs, a somber expression on his face.

“Guys, I think you should all come see this.”

The other two firemen join a third, who is hunched over a pile of wood and metal. The two men wince after joining their teammate, even more sorrow pinching their faces. 

“Do you think…?”

“I see no bones…”

As for what is in front of them, are remains of two cribs and baby toys.


	2. Pierced

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's just get this out of the way: I'm *awful* at describing fight scenes. However, with this story I'm hoping to get better, since there will be plenty of that to go around.

“Who would want to come here? There’s nothing but dead soil and uptight devils.”

“How would I know, little brother? We do not need to ponder on about this. Keep moving.”

“I am, I am. Jeez.”

Armor gently  _ clink clink clinks  _ as two older teenagers walk through the fields of Hell. The metal is odd shades of green and gold, seemingly shifting and melding along said armor. Red and blue lines streak across it, pulsing like a heartbeat. Long, velvet capes flow behind them. The two also wear helmets that have curled horns, hiding away their heads. 

They look like demons, smell like demons, but underneath…

The younger brother groans, popping off his helmet. He holds it under his arm, taking in some fresh air. He has long, white flowing hair, with bright blue eyes and pale skin. He brushes his hair back out of his eyes, the bangs growing longer. Looks like Trish will have to cut them soon.

“Dante, you know what—”

“I  _ know _ , Verge, but I hate wearing this stuffy thing. Hides my good looks.”

Vergil growls at his twin, but follows suit just so he can see his glare. As suggested, Vergil also has white hair, blue eyes and pale skin. Only his is swept back in spikes, with a lone lock refusing to stay in place. So, it stays flopped against his forehead. Dante flashes him a big, wide toothy grin. 

“You’re irritating,” Vergil grunts.

“Better than being such a goody-two shoes.”

Vergil rolls his eyes, turning back to the path before them. Beyond, with their demonic hearing, they can hear some sort of struggle. 

“Come on.”

Continuing down the path, they pause as they get to a short drop. Below, they’re caught off guard by what they see. They know already, technically, what they were looking for. But they certainly weren’t expecting to see  _ humans _ bravely fighting against rogue demons.

* * *

**_“To prove Griffon’s worth as a mentor, and to prove your_ ** **own** **_worth, you two will go out to find intruders I am sensing who have come through from Earth. Do not disappoint me.”_ **

_ “Yes, King Mundus,” the twins say at the same time. They kneel, unflinching under the red three-eyed gaze of the ruler. _

* * *

“This should be entertaining,” Dante chuckles. 

“Lest you forget, we’re supposed to be disposing of them,” Vergil sternly reminds. Dante scoffs.

“I didn’t, actually. But aren’t you and Griffon always preaching about surveying your enemy?”

“ _ You _ want to survey  _ humans _ ?” Vergil deadpans. “May I remind you of the time you went in and killed one-hundred demons in under a minute, with no suggestion of thought in that small brain of yours? And yet you want to survey _humans?_ ”

“Ouch. Come on, Verge. You gotta admit this is interesting; humans rarely encroach on our turf. Especially ones that aren’t going down without a fight.”

He’s not wrong, Vergil knows that. The older twin must admit, it  _ is _ rather intriguing that humans have decided to come here of all places. Why were they here?

The two watch for a moment more, before Dante casually places his helmet back on.

“Let’s go!” 

Vergil rolls his eyes, also placing his helmet back on. They then take a leap.

They land perfectly on their feet after the drop, brandishing swords of their own. They’re outnumbered only in numbers, not skill, and they know that pridefully. 

“Hey! Humans! Fancy meeting your kind here,” Dante taunts, resting his large broadsword on his shoulders. Vergil is silent, expression calculating as he holds his long sword in an ironclad grip.

The armored humans look over to the boys, surprised at their appearance. Almost immediately however, they all get ready for battle. 

If there was chaos before, well, this is complete  _ pandemonium _ . 

Swords clash in brilliant sparks against demonic metal and earthly alloys, grunts and cries of battle following. 

Dante parries an attack from one member, and then stings him with his blade along with a slash. The armor easily breaks thanks to this, and with another slash, the human is dead. 

Vergil dodges easily from another attack, cutting the throat of his adversary with no mercy. He twirls his sword in between his fingers, the blood flicking off as the human collapses. 

The other demons, recognizing the two as kin of Mundus, help fight, even if they aren’t doing a fantastic job. 

Swords and claws keep clashing, cries of death and battle ringing in the dead air. But it’s clear who the victors will be at this rate, as Dante lunges at another human, sticking him through.

“Don’t kill those two!” one human warns. Vergil cocks a brow, confused. They just killed a bunch of their allies, why would they want them to be alive?

“Sir, the portal will close soon!” 

Vergil parries a move, incapacitating the human with a simple move. His eyes gaze over to Dante in a moment’s break, checking on him.

It’s very well that he does, really. After all..

Vergil’s eyes widen, seeing one human brandishing an odd looking sword, which looks different from the others. He recognizes it immediately as demonic alloy, something a human couldn’t  _ possibly _ have. The human wielding it pulls back his arm, and Vergil can  _ feel _ the intent from here.

Vergil doesn’t speak, nor think. Dante is too caught up in his current battle in his wild style of his. He wouldn’t be able to get out of the way in time.

Vergil doesn’t know when he dropped his sword, nor when he started running. All he knows one moment is that he’s a good distance from Dante, then suddenly he’s sliding in front of him. Dante, hearing the commotion, finishes his opponent and turns swiftly. 

Vergil’s helmet drops from the force, falling from his head. Dante watches with horror as the human sticks him right through, piercing the nigh impenetrable demon armor, the tip just barely scraping Dante’s armor in turn. 

Vergil coughs, blood splattering from his mouth. Suddenly, it’s still. Oh-so still. 

“Vergil?” Dante whispers, hands beginning to tremble. 

“Run,” Vergil says through a strangled breath. Dante inhales sharply. 

“We have one! That’s enough! Quickly!”

Vergil feels his limbs become numb, though he’s unsure why. It’s not too later that Vergil can’t move, quite literally. He’s so,  _ so _ unsure why. His heart speeds up, ragged breaths sputtering from his lips.

He’s not panicking.

Not panicking at all.

“Vergil!” Dante screams, and suddenly the situation rushes back to focus. “Vergil!” 

Dante is pulled into a chokehold, and the younger twin snarls, red tinging his vision. He scratches at the human arm holding him, snarling and hissing like some sort of rabid animal. Vergil, meanwhile, is taken off the sword, and two humans grab him by the arms. And through it all, Vergil still can’t move. He’s willing himself to, trying so desperately.

But his muscles just don’t…  _ react. _

“Brother, don’t be foolish! Get out of here!” Vergil manages to yell, more blood coating his lips. Dante doesn’t listen, his hand reaching back and scratching the human’s unprotected face. The human screams, letting go of Dante. 

I would be happy to report Dante got to Vergil in time. That he kills every single human in the area. He gets Vergil home to Trish and Griffon, and Trish heals him with her secret creams. Vergil would just need bed rest and lots of food. They can deal with whatever punishment Mundus gives them. Worse has happened to the twins, Vergil would recover and they’d go back to furious training.

But then, there would be no tale to tell. 

Vergil finally feels his mouth become impacted by whatever was on the sword, unable to speak. He slumps over, his vision becoming blurry. All he can hear as he loses consciousness is his dear brother, screaming,  _ crying _ his name. 

Then, he knows no more. 

* * *

_ ~ _ _ Don't come to question, all that you've known~ _

_ Vergil is unsure who’s voice that is. It sounds exactly like Trish’s, but while Trish is usually more brash, this voice is… soft. Comforting. Trish has certainly never sang to them before, too.  _

_ ~Remember: you are not alone. I will be here, standing beside you~ _

_ Vergil feels something touch his cheek, but he cannot see whatever it is. But it doesn’t bring him… uneasiness. If anything, he feels rather soothed. It’s a hand, he realizes.  _

_ He doesn’t want it to leave. _

_ Humming echoes in his ears, the rest of the words inaudible.  _

_ He wants her to sing again. _


	3. A Cambion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about releasing this chapter sooner, but I figure it's good to stick with just friday's for now.
> 
> Warning for a little bit of self harm from Dante's end.

Agnus watches diligently as his soldiers come back through the portal, notebook in hand. He takes notes of their states of health, noting there are far less than what went through. Another man stands beside him wearing an Order uniform, face calm. He has dark brown hair and hazel eyes with a full beard and tan skin.

“We brought back a demon as you requested, Sir Agnus,” a soldier says, nodding towards the two knights dragging precious cargo. Agnus’ eyes widen, seeing the devil has successfully succumbed to his newest creation.

“You managed to get one?” Agnus stutters in awe and excitement.

“That’s a devil? He looks human,” the man states.

“Pius, do not be tricked by it. It might be just under transformation.”

Pius watches with stern eyes as Agnus orders the soldier carrying the devil to carry him to a different room.

“You may go, Sir Pius. You’re not needed any longer.”

“If I must remind you, Sir Agnus, you’re under _my_ watch.”

Agnus glares at him. Pius glares back. 

“I d-do _not_ need y-you b-b-b—” Agnus curses under his breath. “ _Breathing_ down my neck. This is _my_ research.”

Pius sighs through his nose. To see his son and newborn daughter earlier than usual would be nice. Plus, he did not understand why they needed so desperately to experiment on devils. They were better off dead.

“I will be back later tonight to see your progress,” Pius relents. 

It’s almost sickening, how much glee pulls at Agnus’ face.

* * *

Agnus begins stripping the devil of his armor after having the two soldiers lay him down on a table and shooing them away from his lab. Being alone with such a large research project brought the scientist a sense of twisted joy, looking forward to poking and prodding as he pleases. After he removes the armor to be dissected later, he takes out his notebook once more to comment on the devil’s physicality. 

_-White hair. Considering he’s a devil, it’s certainly natural_

_-Lean, plenty of muscle. He seems to have trained plenty in his time_

_-The wound that scarred his torso is completely healed. Fascinating_

He takes up a syringe, piercing it into the devil’s arm. Thanks to the trial poison Agnus made, he’s proud to see that the devil doesn’t even twitch.

Looks like it’s not so trial anymore. 

He sucks out blood with the tool, bringing it over to a blood analyzer on one of the furthest tables. While waiting for the results, he begins to take pictures of both the armor and then the devil. 

“I wonder… why is he not in a devil form?” Agnus ponders. Other than his obvious devil heritage, the demon chooses to stay in a human form. So… _fascinating_. 

Soon, the analysis is done. Agnus takes up the results, reading them over.

And adjusts his monocle. Once, twice, thrice. 

He glances up once more at the devil, eyes widening a fraction. Then looks back down at the results.

And smirks.

* * *

Vergil jolts awake, taking in short intakes of air as his wide, blue eyes zoom around the room.

He’s not panicking. 

Not at all. 

He shudders after calming, finding underneath him is cold. He manages to turn his head slightly, then falters.

Powerful straps hold his naked form down against a table, holding taut to make sure he doesn’t escape. Easily, anyway.

“You’re finally awake. You’ve been out for a while, devil,” an unfamiliar voice echoes from the darkness of the room.

“Show yourself. Why have you brought me here?” Vergil snarls, eyes flashing a bright green. The voice chuckles, obliging to Vergil’s demand. 

The man is dark skinned, with dark brown hair with one loose strand which hangs over his face. He has a monocle hiding brown eyes, and a white uniform on with gold accents.

“I am Agnus, your humble host for your stay. And you, devil, are a long way from home.”

Vergil tries to move, but finds he can’t. He snarls once more, bringing back his lips to show his sharpening teeth. 

“Ah-ah. I gave you another dose of the poison that _I_ created. A smaller dose, so you won’t black out again. I have some inquiries, demon.”

“You will get _none._ No _human_ will demand answers from a Son of Mundus. I am pure devil, I am _above_ you.”

“A Son of—” Agnus lets out a gasp, making Vergil growl. “Mundus took a human bride?”

Vergil goes quiet for a moment. 

“What do you mean, human?”

Agnus bites back a reminder that his name is _Agnus_. That would just lead to a pointless argument. 

“You’re half human. A cambion.”

Vergil stills.

“No, I’m not.”

Agnus takes the results, shoving them in Vergil’s face. 

“You falsified those to get a rise out of me,” Vergil snaps, glaring daggers at the scientist. Agnus simply shakes his head, stepping away. “You will get no answers. Now let me out.”

“I’m afraid that’s out of the question. However, since you will not give me the answers I seek, I will just have to force them out of you.”

Vergil keeps glaring, like a captured prey that won’t back down. Agnus, the predator, ignores him as he takes up a different syringe. 

“Goodnight, devil. Or shall I say, Nelo Angelo.”

Vergil growls, eyes once more flashing dangerously. He snaps at Agnus, but he simply can’t reach him from where he is. 

Vergil grits his teeth as Agnus sticks the needle into his neck. It’s not long before he’s out again. As he drifts off, all he can think about is Dante...

* * *

_Yesterday…_

“Vergil!” Dante screams, rushing towards the gate. Most of the humans leave, but some get left behind. They turn, fear in their faces.

Good.

Dante yells, snarling as his eyes turn red. There is a brilliant flash of crimson.

And then...

A fully triggered devil stands beside the last of human corpses, panting heavily. His red eyes flash dangerously, a low grumble akin to a car engine leaving his throat. His leathery, chitin skin is tainted red, which blends with the lava-like veins that travel around his body. Blood. And yet, despite unlocking his Devil Trigger for the first time, he could not save his precious older brother.

He rushes back to the castle, Devil Trigger releasing once he reaches the doors. He throws them open, grounding his teeth together. 

“Trish! Trish!” Dante screams, entering the castle. Trish, wearing what she wore since her conception, rushes to Dante’s aid.

“Dante? What’s the matter? Where’s Vergil?”

“Damnit, _damnit,_ they— _fuck!”_

Trish is taken aback by the profanity that leaves Dante’s lips. Dante rarely swears to that degree, even saying “father mucker” on occasion instead of the alternative. 

“They took him, Trish.”

Trish’s eyes widen. 

“Who took him?”

“Humans, Trish! Humans took Vergil!” Dante yells, taking the nearest object to him—a vase—and smashing it to the ground. He even takes the innocuous pillar it stood upon, tossing the damn thing into a nearby wall.

“Dante!” Trish sternly states. Dante growls, yelling once more as he pulls at his hair. “Destroying things is not going to help get Vergil back! Now, to the bathing room.”

“No, I need to tell King Mundus—”

“Dante, you’re _injured!_ Do _not_ argue!” Trish growls, eyes flashing dangerously. The two devils stay eye locked for a moment, before Dante releases a breath. 

“Fine, _fine!”_ Dante storms off towards the bathing room. Trish trails after him after calling for a servant to clean. He enters a large room, where a large pool of steaming water lay undisturbed. Dante strips himself, throwing the armor carelessly before stepping into the water. He hisses, sitting down. 

Without any warning, seething and in rage, Dante begins scratching his legs up with reckless abandon. Blood seeps into the water, turning the area around him a light red.

“Dante! Stop that!” Trish says, grabbing his arms. 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” 

Trish blanches, not expecting his voice to sound so distorted. Dante closes his eyes, heaving. 

“I’m sorry,” Dante finally speaks, hands settling. His legs immediately begin to heal, the blood dissipating. 

“No, I’m sorry. But you need to calm down. You know if you step out of line…”

“I don’t _care_ about myself right now, Trish! Vergil is out there, on Earth, with no way for either of us, or even Griffon, to get there, without the dimensions cracking again. I can’t fathom what they’re doing to him!”

Trish sits down beside Dante out of the water, her feet dipping into the pool. She caresses his hair, soothing him.

“Vergil is strong. He is the eldest son, after all. He will be ok. I am allowed to be just as worried about you as I am for him.”

Dante relaxes under her touch, closing his eyes. 

“Just give yourself five minutes. Collect yourself. Then, we’ll go see him together.”

Dante allows himself this simple moment, and then he’s following Trish with his armor back on. He holds his helmet in his hands, walking with Trish up to the gigantic doors of the throne room.

Trish pushes the doors open, allowing Dante to go first before walking in herself, closing the doors behind her. 

Mundus sits as he does, on his throne. His three eyes open, looking down upon the pair.

**_“Your brother has been lost.”_ **

Dante swallows. Trish resists the urge to flinch.

“Yes. I wish to get him back.”

**_“He is dead.”_ **

Dante’s blood runs cold. He shakes his head.

“No, King Mundus, he—“

**_“Are you talking back, Dante?”_ **

Dante feels chills run down his spine. He wants to speak up—he doesn’t care what happens—but the gaze of red eyes freezes him up. 

**_“Now. You were the only one to return. Vergil fell to weakness; you, on the other hand, have even awakened your Devil Trigger. That calls for reward.”_ **

Dante swallows once more. He doesn’t deserve this so-called ‘reward.’ 

“King Mundus, I don’t deserve anything you give me—”

Mundus ignores him, the sound of fingers snapping echoing in the hall. 

Dante feels nauseous, swallowing again and again to force bile down his throat.

He doesn’t deserve this.

Not when _he_ was the one who was to be impaled. 

**_“I do understand your plight. So, I will give an opportune moment for you to get revenge.”_ **

Dante turns his head upwards, Mundus’ three red eyes piercing his soul.

**_“In a year, I will have gathered enough strength to open a portal of my own. When this happens, you will be able to go forth. Find the Devil Sword Yamato, and open the Hell Gate on Fortuna. Not only will you be able to slaughter humans as much as you please and find Vergil, but I will be able to come forth and reclaim what is rightfully mine. Sparda might have won the battle two-thousand years ago, but he has not won the war. And he will not be victorious.”_ **

Dante narrows his eyes.

Take revenge upon humanity for the kidnapping of his brother. And then bring upon his father’s wrath, something he’s been training for since he was a young child. 

A sweet deal.

A sweet deal indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say while their core personalities are the same, the boys have been raised under different circumstances. 
> 
> No one is immune to trauma response here.
> 
> Also, yes, Pius is Credo and Kyrie's dad heh. Trust me, we'll be seeing a lot of that family :)


	4. Yamato

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late update; was busy today

Vergil isn’t sure how long he’s been here, strapped to this table while naked. It’s certainly been at least longer than a few days. He can’t tell anymore. When he’s awake for the short times that he is, there are no visible clocks down here to keep track of things. And when he’s asleep, well, he can’t tell the difference. 

He is unsure if he’ll ever get off this table. 

Agnus doesn’t provide anything. Vergil is never sure why he needs food in the weakest of times, but he hates it. Sometimes, that small weak part's even  _ glad _ when Agnus gives him that shot of poison.

It’s only, when drifting in and out of consciousness a long time later, does his mind finally snap. 

_ ‘Cannot keep going.’ _

_ ‘I will not die here!’ _

_ ‘But what can I do?’ _

_ ‘I refuse to be this pesky human’s subject any longer! I am a Son of Mundus! Pure Devil!’ _

Vergil grits his teeth. He awoke only a minute ago, the scientist at one of his work desks. Vergil’s eyes flash a dangerous, radioactive green as they snap open.

**_‘I NEED MORE POWER.’_ **

* * *

Agnus looks at some of Nelo Angelo’s skin through a microscope, pulling at it with tweezers. A fascinating sample. 

After finding Nelo Angelo to be a hybrid, he’s been only focused on the devil. Nelo Angelo—an apparent title of some sort, considering a higher demon once spoke of him—however refuses to cooperate. Which is fine in the end, Agnus can just get what he can through biological means. Still, it would be nice if the devil just listened. Would make things much simpler.

Ah, trial and error. 

The armor is also an interesting subject to study. It’s made of a rare, demonic alloy, and only a strong demonic sword or Devil Arm could pierce through it cleanly. Good thing Agnus found this solution quickly. He had made the Devil Arm which he allowed one soldier to take as a sort of trial run, which was obviously a good thing to do. 

Agnus pauses in his testing, hearing a rumble and clatter. He glances toward a glass case, something that would always be out of eyesight from the devil.

The (broken) Demon Sword, Yamato.

Known as the sword that cleaved Hell and Earth apart by the great Savior, Sparda, it was an enthusiastic find from the wreck of a burnt home. They also found the Rebellion, another sword Sparda wielded, as well as the Perfect Amulet. The Manor of Sparda was located in a faraway city named Red Grave, and they had gotten information from one of their sources.

Sparda, evidently, really did have children. A wife, as well. 

Agnus curiously watches the Yamato, watching the brilliant katana-like sword glow brighter and brighter. 

“W-w-w-what?” Agnus stutters, becoming more and more nervous as the sword begins to vibrate. Suddenly, all the parts snap back together, as if it had never been broken at all. The saya completes the look, ribbons dancing in invisible wind. 

Swiftly, the sword breaks through the case. Agnus jumps out of his seat and to his buttocks, stuttering without being able to say a coherent word.

The katana shoots to Nelo Angelo’s body, and in a brilliant flash, Nelo Angelo holds the sword in his hand. He holds it in an ironclad grip, irises fully green while his pupils are thin slits. Nelo Angelo heaves steaming air, yelling and snarling. The Yamato pulses in it’s glow, like it’s beginning to match up with the devil’s heartbeat. Nelo cuts the straps away, one by one. 

Agnus trembles, hands shaking as they hit the desk. He slaps around, before finding a button on the desk.

With a silent  _ click, _ an alarm begins wailing throughout the building. Agnus then, like the coward he is, hides away in a secret compartment under his desk. 

* * *

_ 'Yamato.' _

Vergil yells, whether in pain or ecstasy he’s unsure. Really, he can’t form coherent thoughts for that matter. His bright green eyes rake across the room, growling as he can’t find Agnus anywhere. 

_ ‘Kill.’ _

Vergil fights the most recent dose of poison in his system, as he hobbles around the room. A low, frightening sound rumbles from deep within his chest. 

_ ‘Kill.  _ **_Kill._ ** _ ’ _

He cannot fulfill that request. 

“This way!” 

Vergil turns to the voices, his lips pulled back in a sneer as he advances out of the room. On his way out, he plucks a brown cloak which hangs on a chair. Pulling it on himself, he feels less revealed.

_ ‘ _ **_Survive.’_ **

He cuts down anyone mercilessly in his way with Yamato. He’s never held such a fine sword before, but it’s almost like it naturally should be in his hands, on his person. Like a body part he finally found after losing it. He unsheathes it and sheathes it so naturally and fluidly, like he’s always had it. 

He walks out of the fort after meandering himself around, moonlight hitting his face for the very first time. His arms hold goosebumps, hair risen on end as he continues his escape. 

He pulls up the hood of the cloak, keeping Yamato close. No one else finds him, so he just continues onward with no more bloodshed. He keeps walking, and walking, the unnatural green in his eyes slowly but surely fading into it’s natural steel color. The more he walks, the more exhausted he begins to become. 

Hours later, he finds himself in some sort of town square. Due to the nighttime, it’s bare of life. Vergil grits his teeth, heaving. The poison is still in his system, and he can slowly start to feel his limbs become numb again. 

He glances around him, before glancing upwards.

Upon a fountain, stands a great marble statue. It’s of a devil, that much he is certain. The devil is almost bug-like, and holds a great sword which is impaled in the stand which it’s placed upon. It stares off in the distance, of course unblinking and unmoving.

Vergil stops, breath coming out in short spurts as his grip tightens on his sword. He leans upon it like a cane, grounding his teeth together in frustration.

He looks back upon the statue again, knuckles becoming white. Seeing it once more, something comes upon Vergil like a weighted blanket. For a moment, he feels confused, knowing he’s never seen this devil before. He would know, he grew up in Hell. 

And yet, there’s so much… familiarity. 

Vergil keeps staring and staring, faltering under the statue’s gaze.

Finally, after a long moment, Vergil feels a second emotion come down upon him like sunshine.

Comfort. Quiet, soft, like a bird landing in his hair. 

And with that, clutching the Yamato tightly to his being, Vergil collapses upon the cobbled path, unconscious. 

* * *

~ _ Hear the devil's cry of sin, always turn your back on him. On him. On him~ _

A woman claps for the other on stage, a bright smile on her face. She has long auburn hair and dark brown eyes along with tan skin. She wears a long, violet dress with gold accents, which brushes upon the floor. Seated on her shoulders is a white shrug, which she adjusts after clapping. 

“Thank you, Mrs. Faith,” the girl states bashfully. She wears a long red dress, which also brushes upon the floor. She has short, strawberry blonde hair and dark green eyes, and pale skin. There's a few dots of freckles across the bridge of her nose, which she rubs with a quick motion of her finger.

“Of course! I’m so happy you agreed to be the songstress of this year’s Festival of the Sword. Your parents would be so proud. I’m also glad you got your nose out of a book for once.”

“Mrs. Faith—”

“I’m just teasing you, dear. Now, run along home. Tomorrow, we should have breakfast together to celebrate!” 

“Well, any excuse to see little Credo and Kyrie is a good one.” The girl smiles. “May the Savior be with you.”

“May the Savior be with you, dear!”

Faith beams at the girl, allowing her to leave. The girl sighs after leaving the church and pulling up her hood, nervously rubbing at her nose as she muses upon the festival. It’s only a few weeks away, and the more it grows closer the more nervous she becomes.

The girl shakes off her feelings, just for now, as she begins her home.

Ten minutes into her walk, she pauses in the square to look up at the Savior. She bows her head in greeting, and goes to move on.

She would’ve certainly continued, but she can’t help but see a foot sticking out behind the fountain from where she stood.

The lone foot is bare, and from the position, whoever collapsed is on their stomach. The girl frowns; a vagabond? 

She walks ‘round the fountain, and her eyes widen.

She can’t make out any features at all, but she can tell other than the cloak that this man is naked. She rushes over, gentle as she pulls him over to his side. The cloak has drops of dried blood, which makes her anxious. 

“Sir? Sir?” she calls, pressing her fingers to his jugular. She sighs in relief as she picks up a pulse. “Sir?”

He’s so,  _ so  _ cold. She doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t even falter when she sees the sword he clutches tightly in his hands. She simply helps him to his feet, gritting her teeth under his weight. He dwarfs her in height alone, but she doesn’t think about this much. 

She begins to walk him towards her home, pulling one of his arms around her shoulders. He still clutches the sword he carries, even unconscious. 

The cobblestone path soon turns to dirt, and the city becomes trees. Crickets chirp and cicadas buzz in the more remote area beside the city. The girl grunts, clenching her teeth together.

“Just a little further…”

Soon, she approaches a small cottage. It’s made of brick and stone, with a nice chimney peeking out from the roof. Vines crawl up the sides like green, elongated fingers, decorating the home nicely. Wildflowers grow along the dirt path, a small vegetable garden clearly tended to in the front flower beds. The girl shifts his weight, managing to open the door. 

Inside, the floors are wooden, with archways leading to the kitchen and a living room with a hearth. Three doors line up down a hall, which the girl goes down. 

She opens the first door, which reveals a single window and some curtains. There is a bed pushed up against the wall with blue sheets, and a bedside table. There’s also a dresser along with a rectangular mirror above it. She pulls the man over to the bed, laying him down on top of the sheets. 

Usually, she would flush at the prospect of seeing a man naked. But she knows she has to check for wounds. 

She grabs a large cloth from inside the dresser, placing it over his most private part by going up his cloak. Once that is finished, she begins to remove his cloak. 

She drops the cloak to the floor, cheeks actually turning a bit of a red shade as she gazes upon his semi-naked form. 

He’s absolutely  _ gorgeous _ . White hair which falls on and around his face, a strong jaw, a sculpted face. His physique is chiseled, lean and full of muscle. His pale skin holds no blemish, just pure ivory. 

She wonders what his eyes look like.

Shaking off her stupid thoughts, she begins to work at carefully checking for wounds. Thankfully, she finds none. She glances down, still seeing that he clutches his sword still so tightly in his hand. It seems familiar, but she can't put her finger on why.

She grabs the saya, oh-so careful as she pulls it from his grasp. Evidently, this is a really important sword to him.

Before she can do anything else with it however, she feels an odd burning sensation on her hand. 

She holds back a yelp, the sword  _ clattering _ to the ground. She sucks air in through her teeth, waving her hand in the air. 

Did that sword just…  _ burn _ her?

She doesn’t bother experimenting with that, instead turning back up to the man. He’s shivering, breath coming out in spurts like something weighs on his chest. Slowly but gradually, his face begins to turn red. Body wracking, dry coughs leave his mouth. Yet, he is not awake. She doesn’t even need to touch his head to check his temperature. 

_ ‘A fever!’ _

The girl rushes to the kitchen, grabbing a large bowl and filling it with cold water. She grabs another cloth from a drawer, placing it into the water. She hurries back to the room, wringing out the excess water after placing the bowl down and folding it upon his forehead. She then quickly grabs a blanket from the dresser, since she would not be able to move the sheets with him on top of them without disturbing him.

She doesn’t know who he is, but she swears right then, she’d help him get better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything is now beginning to fall hehe


	5. Red

_ “Vergil! Come on, come on!” _

_ “Dante, I have no time for your games.” _

_ “Oh, come on, Verge! We rarely get a second together that isn’t training!” _

_ “Exactly. I have demonology to brush up on.” _

_ “You’re so boring!”  _

_ “At least I have a hobby outside of fighting my brother.” _

_ “Hmph!”  _

_ “Boys, stop fighting. Dante, why don’t you help me rearrange these Devil Arms?” _

_ “Fine, Trish.” _

_ “And Vergil, do give your brother some attention next time you have a break. He admires you, you know.” _

_ “No I don’t!”  _

_ “Dante!”  _

* * *

Vergil feels, for once, his senses begin to return. He can feel his fingers and toes wiggle under his control when he wills them, which he works up to his hands and feet. A shuddering breath leaves his mouth, scrunching his face as he feels something cold and damp on his forehead.

Something suddenly touches his cheek, and his eyes snap open.

His hand shoots out of the blanket, grabbing the wrist of whoever is touching him. The person falters, freezing under his touch.

Vergil’s gaze turns to the person, finding it to be a woman. Her strawberry hair is pulled back, green eyes laced with worry and surprise. His blue eyes narrow at hers.

“You can let go, I won’t hurt you. Please, your grip is surprisingly strong for someone who’s been out for three days.”

Vergil glares, reluctantly letting her go. She stands from the chair she sits in, turning to the dresser for a moment. In this window of time, Vergil takes notice of the sword which helped him escape. 

_ Yamato, _ it had whispered.

Vergil grabs it, unsheathing it. He points it towards the girl, who turns and drops a bottle of something. It clatters on to the wooden floor, rolling a few inches away from the force.

“What the—”

“Why do you have me captive here,  _ human?”  _ Vergil asks with venom. The girl’s caring face transforms into a more angry, shocked one.

“I do not have you  _ captive _ , thank you. And  _ human?  _ Dear Savior, are you one of  _ those _ people?” 

Vergil falters.

“You’re lying.”

“Lying about what, exactly? Why would I lie when you have a whole sword pointed at my person? I have no right to lie.”

“About holding me captive! Tell me the truth!” Vergil shouts, trying to sit up. His mouth involuntarily falls open in a silent cry, feeling his bones and muscles cry out at once from the sudden movement. “What have you done to me?” Vergil growls, falling back against the bed.

“I have done nothing but take care of you. I found you in the town square under a statue of the Savior. I am certainly  _ not _ holding you captive. You’ve been out for three days due to a very heavy fever. Your temperature peaked at one-hundred and five!”

Vergil grits his teeth, hands shaking as the Yamato falls from his grasp. Another shuddering breath leaves his mouth, and the girl releases her defensive position. 

“Look at what you've done to yourself now,” she says in a softer tone. “Stay there. I just finished making dinner. You must be hungry. What’s your name?”

Vergil keeps his usual glare on his face as a defense mechanism. 

“I don’t need to tell my name to a human.”

The girl hmphs, turning away from him.

“Then you can call me ‘Red,’ since I’d rather not hear any derogatory insults from you anymore than I have to.”

Red points her nose high in a stubborn fashion before leaving the room. Vergil angrily lays, staring at the ceiling. 

Five minutes later, Red returns with a bowl of chicken broth and crackers with a tall glass of water with a straw, balancing it all on a tray.

“I am unsure if you can handle full on soup yet, so I’m sticking to a safer alternative.” She sets the tray down on the bedside table. Vergil eyes it all suspiciously, making Red sigh and roll her eyes. “I understand you don’t trust me right now, but I promise all I want is to help you get better.”

She reaches without thinking about it, making Vergil once again do something involuntary. 

He flinches.

Red pauses, and pulls her hands away. 

“Is it ok if I help you up? You must be really sore all over from not moving a lot, since you looked so in pain earlier.”

Vergil stays quiet, glaring at her. Inside, however, his thoughts are running miles per minute. It’s only when his stomach grumbles from his indecisiveness does he finally—reluctantly—nod. 

Red once again lets her hands approach, Vergil tense as he watches with an intense gaze. Her touch is gentle yet firm, helping him slowly sit up on the bed. His muscles and bones give a more sore response, but it doesn’t hurt as much as when he shot up earlier. 

Red lifts the water to his lips first, and with even more reluctance he takes the straw into his lips. He feels honestly so pathetic, being fed like a babe. 

But his pride washes down the drain, feeling the cool liquid hit his dry tongue. 

With sudden steady hands, he snatches the glass from Red’s hands, throwing the straw away before greedily gulping down the water. Red blinks a bit in shock, but allows him to continue. Once the glass is half empty, Vergil slams it down on the bedside table, inhaling and exhaling furiously. He then goes for the broth next, drinking it directly from the bowl. 

Red sits down, watching with worry as Vergil ravenously eats the crackers and the rest of the broth. He finishes with some more of the water, leaning back against the headboard of the bed. 

“Feel better?”

“Perhaps,” Vergil huffs, unwilling to admit that that was the best dinner he’s had in ages. Red gives an amused smile, before bending down to pick up the bottle she dropped earlier.

“Here’s some medicine. It’s just painkillers to help your body become less sore, I promise. You can even read the label.”

Vergil does just that, taking the bottle from her hand. It’s finally with this that he notices his hair is in his face, and grits his teeth.

He drops the bottle in his lap, and dramatically sweeps his hair back in the way it’s supposed to. Red blinks, a little surprised by this. 

“You wear your hair back?”

“I prefer it, yes,” Vergil replies, picking the bottle back up. 

“Well, it looks good on you.”

Vergil just barely manages to keep his composure, not expecting that at all. He’s not sure why warmth is suddenly on his ears.

“Flattery will get you nowhere.”

“I’m being genuine. It shows off your angled features better.”

Vergil glances at her before going back down to the bottle. After reading it, he gives it back to Red. She opens it with a twist, producing two white pills. She hands them to him, and he takes them with the rest of the water.

“Do you have any Vital Stars?”

“Vital… Stars?”

“They help bring back vitality, as one would imagine by their name alone. Demons use them often.”

“You know about demons?”

Vergil doesn’t hesitate as he shoots Red a serious look.

“I  _ am _ a demon.”

Red stills, blinking owlishly at him.

Vergil is caught off guard when a bark of laughter follows. Red smiles warily at him after she finishes.

“Oh dear, that makes me worried,” she states. “That fever did you in well.”

“This is not about the—”

“Get some more bed rest. I’ll try looking into finding Vital Stars for you.”

“Human—”

“ _ Red.” _

Red picks up his tray, leaving the room. Vergil growls in frustration, going to peel the blanket off—

Only to see he’s naked underneath.

Huffing, he pulls the blanket around himself, going to get up but then falters. His legs scream out in pain, not liking his sudden movements. Even the gentle touch of the soles of his feet hitting the cold floor feels like knives stabbing in. 

Vergil grits his teeth, soldiering on anyway like the stubborn ox he is. Unfortunately, he doesn’t get very far, stumbling and falling on the floor. 

Even now, he’s  _ weak! _

Red comes rushing back in at the sound of a hard fall.

“Hey! Are you alright?” Red hurries to his side, moving one arm around her shoulder. Vergil hisses as she helps him up, pulling him over back to the bed. After sitting him down, she stands tall. “Do you need to use the restroom?”

Vergil shakes his head. Exhaustion begins to show itself, eyelids growing heavy.

“Then stay there. I don’t know what’s affecting you, but for now you need rest.”

Vergil reluctantly allows her to pull him back up to the bed, feeling too numb and exhausted to do it himself.

She’ll learn with time.

* * *

Red didn’t lie when she said she’d try to find a Vital Star, however. 

After dinner, she enters her living room. She runs her fingers across spines of books on her bookshelf, humming to herself. Finally, she gets to the last book, which she pulls out. 

_ Demonology _ sprawls out in gold lettering against a maroon leather cover, the author scratched away. She flips open the book, thumbing through the pages as she moves past different demons and histories. Finally, she gets to the  _ Demonic Items _ chapter, which she peruses.

_ A Vital Star is a unique revitalizer of energy made from alchemy. Shaped like a star, it holds a green liquid inside which can bring rejuvenation back to both demons and humans. It’s not rare, but can be hard to find if you do not know where to find it. The most common way is to sacrifice crystalized demon blood to a statue of Divinity, a demon goddess hidden deep in the Underworld. _

“Hm…”

She knows she’s seen a statue of the goddess before, just on the edge of town. It’s an ancient statue Sparda put there himself, so it’s often prayed to for good fortune. The crystalized blood, however…

She flips the pages, finding the appropriate chapter.

_ Red Orbs are the crystallization of demonic blood, which appears after a demon turns to ash. These crystals can be used as sacrificial items to a statue of Divinity, a demon goddess hidden deep in the Underworld.  _

She searches through her brain for a solution. 

It comes to her suddenly, and she snaps the book closed. 

She walks back to the bookcase, reaching on her tiptoes. On top of the bookcase is a small box, which she brings down. 

She opens it, digging through the contents.

_ ‘Grandfather loves the occult as much as his books, so… ah-ha!’ _

She pulls out a small drawstring pouch, opening it and plucking a red orb out of the pouch. She never found a use for these, until now of course. 

Unfortunately however, she’d have to wait until tomorrow, since it’s so late. She tucks the pouch into her dress pocket, walking to the guest bedroom.

Opening it, she finds Vergil asleep again, curled up in a fetal position under the blanket and facing the wall. It’s good that he’s getting some sleep, at least. She walks over to the burning candle on the dresser, preparing to blow it out. She takes one last glance, blinking as she sees the sword is gone. 

She turns up to Vergil, seeing the sword tight in his hold. He’s cuddling the weapon, shielding it away from the outside world. 

Red doesn’t comment, she just simply blows out the light. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Red isn't her actual name, btw~
> 
> A day late, I got busy and by the time I was unbusy, it was near midnight. Not exactly an ideal time to update a story hehe.


	6. Sunrise

Red awakens the next day, dressing in a different dress which is a rich purple color. Grabbing the pouch of demon blood from her bedside table, she leaves her room. She pins her hood to her dress, pulling it up as she opens the door.

Pushing the bag into her dress pocket, she steps out into the dawn air. It won’t take too long to get to the city and back, she’ll probably be back before the sun rises completely. 

The trees and dirt soon turn into buildings and cobblestone, and before long she’s in front of the goddess statue.

She’s intimidating, powerful, with her hourglass and lion mask. She balances time and space, her very existence demanding respect. Red bows her head kindly, honoring the statue. After that, she glances around, and then pulls the pouch out. 

“O’ goddess, I hope you hear my plea,” Red prays, pouring some red orbs into her palm. “I wish for two Vital Stars, if you would grant me my request. I know I’m just a human, but I want to help an acquaintance.”

Red throws the orbs like coins to the statue. The orbs, instead of bouncing against the metal, they were absorbed by the statue. There’s a bright flash from the goddess’ hourglass, and suddenly, Red has two green stars in her palm. 

She admires them in the dim light, the green pulsating. She puts them in her other pocket after pocketing the pouch. 

“Dearest! I see you’re out and about again!”

Faith greets Red warmly, making her turn to the mother. In her arms is a bundled blanket, holding something precious.

Her newborn baby girl, Kyrie. 

Red smiles, walking up to Faith. She coos at Kyrie, kissing her forehead gently and greeting her. Kyrie shifts in the blankets, a little noise leaving her throat.

“She couldn’t sleep. I had to come out here to walk her around town,” Faith chuckles. Red nods. “So, what was the thing that came up?”

Red remembers the short phone conversation she had with Faith. Red sighs; no use in hiding the truth anymore.

“I… found a vagabond, in the town center after we had that rehearsal. He was delirious with fever and is very weak even now. He has no clothes, only a cloak and sword to his name.”

Faith blinks, concern on her face.

“Does he have a name?”

“If he does, he hasn’t told me yet. I think he’s still rather delirious and weary from his illness.”

Faith hums, rocking a fussy Kyrie.

“Well, that sounds awful. May I meet him sometime? I could bring some soup around.”

“I’m not sure. He’s rather cold to people… can we keep this in between us? For now, at least? I don’t want him being overwhelmed.”

“Of course, love. Send him my prayers!”

“I will! Thank you.”

Red leaves, heading back home. She enters the cottage, and walks up to the guest room.

* * *

_ Knock, knock _

Vergil awakens, groaning to himself. Exhaustion still licks at his eyelids, begging to be closed again. Instead, however, he fights the feeling off.

“Come in,  _ Red. _ ”

She does just that. A nice smile is on her face as she digs into her pocket.

“What do you have?”

Red plucks the two stars out of her pocket, holding them in between her fingers. Vergil holds himself back from shooting up, instead giving her a blank stare.

“You… why?”

“Because I want to help you get better, didn’t I tell you?”

She hands them to Vergil, who holds them in his open palm. He marvels at them for a second before grasping the tip of one in his fingers. Red, after asking, helps him sit up. With a tight squeeze afterwards, the top of the glass pops. He tips it into his mouth, head going backwards. He drinks greedily, drinking until it’s all gone. 

Vergil lets out a big sigh, a green light pulsating under his skin. Red watches with a bit of wonder as he suddenly moves the blanket around him once more. He turns off the bed and stands with ease, as if he had never been hurt at all.

“There you go! I guess they really are miracle workers!” Red says in awe. 

“They truly are,” Vergil replies, setting the other star down on the bedside table. 

“Well! I’ll run you a bath and get you some clothes. I think that’s certainly in order. I’ll be back.”

Vergil sits down on the bed, revelling in the feeling of being able to move without pain. With his demonic hearing, he can hear water start to hit something solid next door. He then hears Red’s footsteps, moving past his bedroom and then coming back again.

“You’ll fit in with the other Fortuna citizens with these. The coat is quite airy, so don’t worry about wearing it even in this climate.” 

Red shows them off, and Vergil looks them over. Tan fingerless gloves, black slacks, a gray waistcoat, dark navy blue suit jacket, and a white button up. Vergil nods in satisfaction, making Red readjust the clothes in her arms.

“The bath will be ready in a moment. You’ll have to use my soap, I apologize if flowery scents aren’t your fancy.”

Red grabs the clothes again, guiding him to the bathroom. Vergil looks around, taking in the bathroom. There’s a toilet, a countertop sink with an ornate oval mirror above it, and a large shower-tub pushed to the furthest wall with a plain white shower cover. It’s painted all a light lavender shade, with white tile flooring and a few blue mats.

Red places the clothes down on the sink countertop, and then turns off the facet.

“Enjoy as you please. When you rinse, this is hot, and this is cold. I’ll make us some breakfast. No allergies, right?” Vergil shakes his head.

Red leaves, closing the door behind her. Vergil allows the blanket to finally fall to the floor, allowing himself to be bare as he steps over to the tub. He presses his hand to the water, and after finding it adequate, he places him into the steaming liquid.

A large, long sigh leaves his lips.

* * *

Red finishes making omelets, one ham and cheese and one tomato and cheese. She just finishes serving them when Vergil comes out to the kitchen. 

Red’s cheeks flush; wow, he looks rather dashing in her father’s old clothes. 

“Now wait a moment, I think there’s something missing.” Red places the plates full of food down on the table, hurrying off for a moment. Vergil watches with curiosity flickering in his eyes. Red comes back a moment later, holding a black ascot in her hands. “Here.” She places it in his hand.

Vergil holds it, curious as he analyzes it. 

“It’s an ascot. You know what that is, right?”

Vergil is too stubborn to admit it, but  _ no _ . Red picks up on his signals anyway, taking it from his hands.

“Here, bend down a little.”

Vergil hesitates, his usual icy glare piercing at her. But she doesn’t mind; she’s used to it at this point. Vergil finally does what he’s told, in the end.

Red gently tucks the ascot into the crevice of his vest, tying it into a perfect knot. All the while Vergil is confused, feeling an odd warmth once again befall his ears. 

Once Red finishes, she walks away as if nothing happened. 

“I made omelets!”

Vergil is about to say something, his mouth even opening to emphasize this, but then something catches his eye.

“What… is that?” he asks.

Red turns to him, confused. She follows his eyesight, finding him looking outside the window.

“Outside?” Red’s statement is more like a question.

“Why is the sky so many colors?”

Red is quiet.

“You’ve never seen the sunrise?”

“I’ve never seen the sky.”

Red is quiet, flummoxed, thoughts running many miles. She  _ did _ find him in the town square, and she had no idea where he came from.

A flash of heat—an angry, ferocious one—rips through her for a moment. 

_ ‘Where was he before I found him?’ _

“Follow me.”

Vergil does as he’s told, Red picking up the two plates and guiding him outside. Vergil winces in the growing light, not expecting its full force.

Red leads him over to a wooden round table, placing the ham and cheese on his end and the tomato and cheese on hers. She sits down and gestures to the chair. 

“Come here, sit.”

Vergil would make a biting remark about him not being a dog, but his curiosity about this “sunrise” triumphs. He sits across from Red, and glances upwards.

The sun brings golden color and a fantastic blue. Vergil sits quietly, admittedly in awe as the gold molds reds and purples with it. Red just watches his reaction, a small smile on her face. The sunlight bounces off his white hair in a beautiful way, making it have a golden tint.

Then, it happens.

For the first time since he came here, Vergil’s lips quirk upwards. Now it’s Red’s turn to be in awe as Vergil’s dimples impact his cheeks.

She never guessed he could smile, considering how much he allows his glare to be his default. Has he ever smiled in his life? She barely knows him, yet this feels like a rarity.

Vergil keeps watching, taken by the sight. He doesn’t even know he’s smiling, taken by this common nature event.

“Eat your omelet before it gets cold,” Red reminds, reluctant to break the moment.

Vergil turns and glances down at the food. 

“What is it?”

“You’ve never had an omelet? It’s egg, and I put ham and cheese in there for you.”

Vergil doesn’t quite know what to think of this, but he doesn’t hesitate in grabbing it. Red blinks in surprise, watching as he eats it like a sandwich.

Vergil pauses, a burst of flavor hitting his tongue. He inhales, but doesn’t allow himself to be ravenous like he was yesterday. What an awful thing that was to allow himself to lose his composure. Instead, he eats politely, calmly, as if he isn’t a starving man.

“Um… do you know what a fork and knife is?”

“A pronged fork and knife? Yes,” Vergil says after swallowing, giving her an odd look. “Why do you ask?”

Red figures she’d teach him etiquette some other time. He looks genuinely confused as to why she asked, making her even angrier deep down.

Instead, she just smiles, and eats her own omelet just as he does; like a sandwich.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very excited for Vergil to experience more of the human world. It's been fun coming up with all sorts of ways of how he'll adapt.

**Author's Note:**

> So, this au was inspired by a comment on a youtube video which I cannot find unfortunately. It talked about how Vergil's story in the reboot could've easily been fixed if Vergil had been adopted by Mundus, and god my brain escalated that idea. 
> 
> I will post the second chapter after this goes up as well, and then try to post on a weekly basis. But I can't promise anything; I'm in college rn, and due to the pandemic it's not going well. Kids, if you have to go on distance learning, just take a gap semester or year please your mental health will thank you skdjskdj.


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